Lost Boy
by Lucinda
Summary: When Micheal Emerson suspects that things may not be quite as over as he'd hoped, he goes to find an expert on vampires. Post LostBoys movie, s4 BtVS.
1. Lost Boy

author: Lucinda

rating: pg13?

main characters: Rupert Giles, Michael (Lost Boys)

disclaimer: you know they aren't mine.

distribution: Twisting & Mental Wanderings

notes: Twisting's FfA pairing # 631.

"Mr. Giles?" The voice was a bit hesitant, a young man who was unmistakably American.

"I am Rupert Giles. Was there something..." His memory nagged at him, and then he recalled Anya mentioning making him an appointment to talk to some man about something or other that she didn't ask about. The odds were high that this would be that man. "Are you Michael Emerson?"

"Yeah." He ran his hand through long dark hair, and stepped inside the shop. He wore dark clothing, and an earring dangled, half hidden by his hair. He had that half rebellious air of attempted danger that was always popular among unhappy young men. As Michael pulled off his sunglasses, he wondered if maybe it was a good thing that Buffy was elsewhere for the weekend?

"I'm afraid that Anya neglected to tell me what you wanted to speak about. Would you prefer the back room, for a bit more privacy?" He offered, wanting to be courteous.

"The back room." There was no hesitation, in fact, the young man looked rather relieved at the chance to talk in greater privacy.

He didn't say anything else of importance until they were settled in the back, at the solid table normally used for the research sessions. "I... Some people that I know tell me that you're an expert on vampires. Not vampire movies or books, but the real ones."

"Yes, I suppose that I am." Rupert sighed, and stood up, moving towards his teapot. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

Michael shook his head in polite refusal, and murmured, "I know it sounds crazy, but I need to talk to you about that. About... side effects."

"Perhaps you should start at the beginning?" He sipped at his tea, feeling confident that if he didn't have an answer, it should be in one of his books. "There are a rather large number of things that involve vampires."

"They... They tried to make me into a vampire. A killer." He shuddered, and his hands clenched into fists. "We thought.. we killed the head vampire in the area, and we thought that would be it, that we would be normal again. And we really believed that."

"Obviously, they didn't drain your blood until your heartbeat faltered, feed you their own blood, let you die and wait for you to rise again." Giles sat a bit straighter. It sounded like the vampires that Michael had encountered were a bit different than the usual Sunnydale rabble, and that could be most interesting. "My sources have mentioned several other, less frequently used strategies, which did the vampires employ in... Pardon, where did this occur?"

"Santa Carla." He whispered, and his eyes looked haunted. "They said it was wine, and... It started changing me. Starr said it made me half, like she was. If I'd killed anyone, if I'd given in..."

"Ah." He set the cup down, and went to a shelf, pulling out one of the older volumes, bound in dark red leather. "I think it was in here... Certain bloodlines were known for using that strategy in the Middle Ages, as it gave them a larger number of minions while costing them less blood. Efficiency, as it were. Most didn't do that, because it's more difficult for them to effectively control and teach the individuals."

"It freaked me out. I... I woke up on the ceiling." Michael looked at him, and whispered, "I'm having dreams about them. Like they're outside, whispering to me. And the sunlight's starting to burn more. Like it did then."

"Hmmm." Giles flipped though the volume, considering the possibilities. "I assume that you haven't drank anything that could have been used to conceal blood. Are you absolutely certain that the vampires were killed? All of them?"

"Yeah. All of them... Melted in the tub of holy water, burned at the stereo, staked in the cave, antelope horns, and the fireplace." He counted off fingers.

"Antelope horns?" He almost dropped the book, spinning to glare at the young man. "Antelope horns by themselves might not be completely fatal. Was there a body?"

"David... yeah. We buried him near the bluff. But Max was their leader." Michael looked worried, and rubbed at his arms. "Max died, and we felt human again. It should have been over."

"Whose blood was in the wine bottle?" He ground the words out carefully, reminding himself that if the young man had been an expert in vampires, he wouldn't be here asking questions.

"David's." The name was a half frightened whisper.

"And it was David who you buried? The one with an intact body?" Rupert pressed, his mind skipping ahead, trying to dredge up everything he could about vampires healing from injuries from bone or horn. Both were as debilitating as wood, but if they hadn't precisely skewered the heart... "You should have burned the body, just to be certain."

Michael just nodded, looking stricken.

"Damn." Rupert sat back down, and gulped a swallow of hot tea. "Well then, he's probably healed from the antelope horns, and returned to awareness. That return would cause a reaction, and you can feel him. It's a weaker form of the Sire-Child bond."

"Am I going to change again?" The words were slow, dragged out through fear and dismay. "Will Starr?"

"My sources..." He scanned the text, scowling. "I don't know. In Medieval times, suspected vampire bodies were always burned, just to make certain. That would prevent any healing sleeps and later returns. There are very few cases of people who had been partially turned after the death of their... err... near-sires, and many of them either went mad or went into seclusion."

"What can I do?" Michael moaned.

"Don't sit there despairing, but do something about it. Either make preparations to hunt David down again, or take steps to ensure that you will not become a menace. Perhaps you should make certain that you are ready to fight?"

"Can you teach me? We... we were terrible at it before. We managed, but mostly through dumb luck, and I don't want to count on that." Michael asked, his eyes desperate.

Rupert sighed, rubbing at his temples. This could only lead to trouble, he knew it. "Fine, you can stay. We'll teach you how to hunt vampires, and try to help you keep from becoming one."

"Thank you." The handshake was a bit too tight, a bit too frantic.

Pessimism told Rupert that he'd just found Buffy's rebound from Angel's departure. At least this one had a pulse. For now. Damn.

end Lost Boy.


	2. Who's the Guy?

Author: Lucinda

rating: pg? pg13?

main characters: Buffy Summers, Micheal

disclaimers: Buffy was created by Joss, Micheal belongs to the creators of Lost Boys

distribution: Twisting, Mental Wanderings, anybody with 'Lost Boy', by permission.

notes: TtH FfA pairing # 629. Sequel to 'Lost Boy', also written for the FfA. Set at the start of an AU s4 BtVS, post Lost Boys the movie.

Buffy tugged her hair out of her eyes as she walked towards the Magic Box. College was a lot harder than High School had been, and the classes kept getting tougher as the year progressed. Now, not only did she have to write a five page paper for Psych, she had three pages of math and some stupid readings for Literature, and she was still Slaying. The only bright side seemed to be that Parker, this sort of cute upper classman had been flirting with her some. He was sort of handsome, and he'd seemed like he understood everything...

But instead of hanging around to see if Parker was just as interesting today, she had to go talk to Giles and find out if there was anything to look for on patrol before going out and fighting vampires, again. Some things never changed. Except that she'd be hunting vampires alone. Willow had Oz, and Xander had his... thing with Anya, and Angel was gone. She was alone, and it sucked. Some days, she really wished that she could have someone, though they'd all learned not to actually say such things out loud – you never knew who or what might be listening.

Buffy let herself into the Magic Box, thinking again that it really had been smart of Giles to get a shop to use as their base, and tried to paste a smile on her face. Giles didn't need to know how much she missed Angel. He didn't need to know how lonely she'd been feeling. Her near smile faltered when she found Giles in deep discussion with a guy. He looked a few years older than she was, though not quite Wesley's age. Shoulder length dark hair, torn jeans... He looked cute and a little on the bad-boy side of things. And did he have an earring?

Wait a minute, she shook her head. So what if he was cute or had a really nice backside? What was he even doing here? "Hey, Giles. I didn't know that you were expecting company."

Giles sighed, and picked up his tea, sipping at it slowly. After a moment, he spoke. "Buffy, this is Micheal. He's come to... well, I suppose you'd have to say he's come to consult with me. He needed to talk to an expert on vampires."

"Vampires?" Buffy blinked, and looked again at the cute guy. "I thought we were all about the non-sharing thing?"

"Once again, your treatment of the English language appalls me." Giles muttered, and shook his head. "Micheal's hometown is, unfortunately, also the hometown of a family of rather devious vampires. It was his concern that a lack of proper expertise on vampires could endanger them and lead to either himself or some of his associates ending up rather dead. Possibly with fangs."

Micheal shook his head, smiling slightly. "All that without actually saying the problem."

Holding one hand towards her, he smiled. "I'm Micheal. He said that between the two of you, I could learn the right way to fight vampires. Without ending up dead myself. Of course, he also mentioned that the big three were impalement through the heart, beheading, and fire."

Taking his hand, Buffy smiled back, no longer needing to pretend. Micheal knew about vampires already... Maybe they could get together, swap stories? "It'll be nice to have someone to patrol with me. I've even got a spare crossbow that you can use."

"A spare crossbow, huh?" He gave a small shrug, and grinned at her. "If that's the place to start. It sounds a lot better than fighting hand to hand."

"The hand to hand part comes later." She ignored the way her stomach fluttered at his smile, or the little shiver that his touch sent up her back. After all, he was cute, that had to be it. Right? Because Giles was so not going to be inviting vampires into the shop to have long chats and tea with. She wondered if he had a girlfriend. "I mean, against the vampires."

"Sure." He glanced around, and the grin faltered. "So, a crossbow? And then what, on to looking for vampires?"

"Yeah, just a regular cemetery patrol to catch the newbies as they rise." Buffy commented, dragging up the second crossbow and a batch of the bolts that it used. "Through the heart to kill them, anywhere else hurts but isn't fatal. But if you can get the knees, they fall down."

"The knees… I'll have to remember that. And I already know that garlic doesn't work." The little twitch at his jaw hinted that there was a story behind that, but he didn't elaborate. "Any other good advice for me?"

"Holy water is good, and you never, ever want to be without a real weapon." Buffy shuddered, remembering one ugly encounter back in LA. "In a really desperate situation, Exacto knives work for decapitation, but it's really messy and takes a long time. If you can find one, a number two pencil through the heart is faster and a lot easier to clean up."

"An Exacto knife?" He shook his head and chuckled. "Well, at least those aren't too bad to replace. Sam ended up shooting a vamp and he fell back into the stereo system… I don't know if he got the heart or electrocution works as well as fire, but the vampire burned up, and the stereo was just as dead. Mom had a fit about that one."

"Death by stereo? That's just too funny." Buffy decided that it was a really nice thing that Micheal had come to Sunnydale. She didn't even think about Parker, and only occasionally about Angel as they walked into the cemetery.

end Who's the Guy?


	3. Lost the Laughter

author Lucinda

rated t for teen content similar to the movie & series

main characters: Xander Harris and Micheal Emerson

mentions of Xander/Anya, past tense Buffy/Angel and possible Buffy/Micheal

disclaimer: Xander and the BtVS folks belong to Joss & Co. Micheal belongs to... umm, whoever wrote the movie 'Lost Boys', which isn't me.

distribution: with the previous 2 ficlets.

notes: Set in s4 BtVS, post Lost Boys the movie.

Xander shook his head, still trying to figure out how he'd ended up with Anya. Well, the part where she'd come to his room, stripped off her dress and announced that she thought they should have sex had been a big part, but... How exactly had they stayed together again?

God, he needed some friends who were guys. He shouldn't be objecting to lots of wild sex with someone who knew all sorts of things to do. Someone with over a thousand years of experience. A hot older woman with an adventurous streak. What was the problem with this again?

Giles was talking with some guy. Some guy that looked a lot closer to their age than to Giles. Someone who didn't look anything like a Watcher.

Blinking, Xander tried for something witty and smart to say. "Uhh, Who's this and what's he doing here?"

So much for witty and smart.

"This is Micheal Emerson. He'll be staying in Sunnydale for a while, studying a few aspects of demonology and fighting," Giles adjusted his glasses, and rubbed at his temple. "He has been aware of the existence of vampires for some time, but some of the other things will be more of an unpleasant surprise to him. Perhaps you can help him adjust?"

"Right," Xander nodded, trying to figure out just what all that meant in plain English. "Some vamps tried to munch him, and he's not repressing?"

"Repressing? Does that actually work for anyone?" Micheal asked, one brow lifting.

Xander shrugged. "Lots of people keep doing it. I think the whole dark and scary truth makes their heads hurt too much."

"Yes, would you please go into the back room and explain a few of the basic things he'll need to know about Sunnydale?" Giles asked, looking at Xander.

Xander waved towards the back, and stuck his hands into his pockets. "Right, let's go sit down and swap horror stories."

"How bad is it? This looks like a nice enough town," Micheal asked as he followed Xander back into the room they used for researching.

"The Spanish had a name for this place – La Boca Del Infierno. Translated, it means the mouth of hell, or hellmouth. They had it right. Just about every nasty thing you can think of shows up here," Xander paused, "Maybe not abominable snowmen. But vampires, werewolves, demons… you name it."

"Werewolves? Demons?" Micheal sank onto a chair, frowning. "I know vampires are real, but… werewolves and demons? Have you been reading those horror comics?"

"My best friend's dating a werewolf. He plays guitar in a band, and most of the time he's pretty quiet," Xander grabbed one of the books that mentioned werewolves, absently flipping to the right section and dropping the book in front of Micheal. "We used to lock him in the high school library's book cage when he changed."

Micheal looked at the book as if it might bite him.

Xander blinked, realizing what he'd just done. He'd pulled out an old, heavy book as if it explained everything. "Oh no, I'm turning into Giles. I'm grabbing books to give the answers to all the strangeness that goes on here."

"Okay, werewolves are real and not all evil. I'll take your word about demons for now. How'd you find out about all this?" Micheal waved at the books, and as he looked around, the light glinted on an earring. Just beneath it were a set of scars, two thin lines on the side of his neck.

"It all started with a girl," Xander smiled. "She was the new girl at school, blonde, beautiful, and completely out of my league. The next few days had a few signs that she was also a bit strange, carrying around a wooden stake in her book bag, turning up in strange places at night, and asking questions about the dead bodies that turned up at school…"

"You say that like it was normal for bodies to turn up at school," Micheal frowned.

"Our school newspaper had an obituary column. It wasn't exactly an everyday thing, but it happened all too often." Xander frowned, thinking back to some of those bodies. "Buffy was just the first person that I'd ever seen trying to find out what had happened and wanting to stop it from happening again."

"You fell for her, didn't you?" Micheal had a smirk as he made the statement.

"Right over the handrail on the front steps," Xander touched his forehead, remembering the bruise that first meeting had left. "It didn't work, for a whole bunch of reasons. But part of the reason I got into things was to spend more time with her, and part of it was because shortly after she moved into town, one of my two best friends since I could walk got turned."

"Sorry," Micheal shook his head, and in a soft voice offered, "My story started with a girl too. We'd just had to move from Phoenix, and I didn't think there was much to do beside hang out at the park. There she was, dark hair, long skirts swishing, and those eyes… Starr had these eyes that just pull you right in."

"Let me guess, she wasn't interested?" Xander leaned on the table, wondering just what sort of town Micheal had moved to after Phoenix.

"Not quite. The problem was her boyfriend, the vampire," Micheal almost growled, and his hand clenched into a fist. "He figured that he'd just turn me, probably have me kill Sam, and his Master would just turn Mom. It almost worked."

Xander blinked, part of him wanting to know how a guy could growl like that, and part of him wondering if Micheal's eyes had really gone pale or if it had been his imagination. "Sounds like a nasty plan. I take it you objected."

"Yeah, we objected. And we didn't forget, not all of it. Sam and his pals are off hunting vampires, though the last I heard one of them had joined the Army and was in some sort of secret project. Mom won't talk about it, but she's really careful about meeting new people. Starr left, she said she couldn't stay where there were so many ugly memories of them. None of us could forget that there are vampires out there, that they're real," Micheal paused, and looked at his fist, before unfolding it and holding his hand flat against the table. "I think they wanted to forget how close it was, how close we all came to having fangs or being dead. Or having fangs and being dead."

"So, how'd that bring you here?" Xander asked, knowing that he was poking at old wounds. Maybe not so old, for that matter.

"Did you know that there's a way to be turned into a vampire that doesn't involve getting killed first?" Micheal looked at Xander, his eyes somehow old and full of pain.

"No dying? Or weird Halloween costumes and spells?" Xander shook his head, "Giles never mentioned anything like that."

"There is," Micheal swallowed, and held his hand up, fingers pinched together so that only a sliver of air separated them. "I had fangs before I ever knew that something was wrong. I was this close to them being permanent. To becoming…. Like David. Like the rest of them.

Xander couldn't find the words as the air left him, staring at that sliver of air, the words echoing in his head. 'I had fangs' and 'becoming like David' and the way that he'd growled earlier. Giles had said he was here to learn more about vampires and demonology. The pieces made a very ugly picture. "Something made you think maybe things weren't over after all."

"A couple things," Micheal admitted. "None of them would have done it by themselves, and most of them I could explain away, but all together… It doesn't make a good picture, and I want… I need more information."

Xander nodded, and looked at the shelves of books, "We have information. More information about vampires and demons and ways things can try to end the world than you ever wanted to know. And while you're here, you'll probably need to know some of it."

Micheal's smile didn't look like he felt comforted.

"Giles will have a solution," Xander offered. "And if things turn up really and truly bad, we now how to deal with vampires. If they come back, we can kill them like the locals. If they pull some weird mojo, we can look it up and counter it."

"And if they do it this time? If they make me like them, a killer?" Micheal looked at him again, his eyes demanding… something.

Xander didn't know what answers or promises Micheal wanted. All he could offer was, "If they turn you into a vicious bloodsucking killer, I'll kill you myself. Or maybe Buffy will take you down. Does that help any?"

Michel laughed, though there was an edge of hysteria to the sound. "Yeah, that does. How weird is that, it helps that you just said you'd be willing to kill me?"

"You'd do the same, wouldn't you?" Xander looked at Micheal, wondering just how long he'd been struggling with those fears, just how ugly things had been that he gave special focus to the killing part of being a vampire.

Micheal wasn't laughing anymore when he nodded.

It was a sad thing that Xander thought this might turn out to be the start of a friendship. At least as much as what he had with Oz. But that was life on the Hellmouth, danger, vampires, and strangeness.

End LostBoy3: Lost the Laughter.


	4. Warning Michael

lb4..lb4..lb4..

"I do hope that you've been being careful in Sunnydale?" the voice of Rupert Giles was full of concern, and shouldn't have fit any town in California.

Except that it was a perfect match for the back room of this little shop. A shop that sold crystals and feathers, incense and books on eastern philosophy, crystals and old pre-Christian symbology, divination, and religion. A shop with drums and dream-catchers and hand-made jewelry.

A shop with a back room filled with books on demons and vampires, werewolves and magic. A room with weapons, all of them showing signs of use and abuse that only came from using them in combat instead of hanging them on the walls for decoration.

"Trying to, at least. Xander had his friend, the red-head, cast some sort of spell on my hotel room to keep the vampires out. I've been practicing with Buffy and Xander on some fighting moves, and target practice with the crossbow," Michael shook his head.

"How is the practice going?" Giles walked into the room, and began fussing with his tea things on the other side of the room.

"I've reached the point where I hit the target most of the time, and it's getting closer to the bull's eye. Xander calls it enough that the vampire would notice, but bad enough that I shouldn't go out on my own, or else I'll just piss the vampire off and get eaten for my troubles." Michael shuddered, "I'll pass on that."

"Quite reasonable," Giles agreed.

"Xander's been telling me a few things about this place," Michael glanced at Giles, relieved to see the man still fussing with his tea.

"Stories from High School?" Giles inquired, pouring himself a cup of tea. "Would you like a cup?"

For a moment, Michael considered refusing, but with a shrug, he said, "Sure. Is there sugar?"

"Of course. There is... a powder that is supposed to be creamer, and I do have some lemon wedges," he offered.

Michael placed a lemon wedge on the bottom of the cup, and added two heaping spoons of sugar to the top before pouring the tea over the almost-obscured lemon. "None of that fake creamer stuff. My brother got ahold of some at the same time as some bottle-rockets... After that, I am never, ever eating that powder stuff. It burned worse than the vampires."

"Ohh my..." Giles looked rather shocked. "Highly flammable? I can see that causing some concerns about consumption."

"Bigger boom than the bottle-rockets," Michael admitted. "It looked pretty impressive."

"I notice the sunglasses. Have you been experiencing a greater measure of sunlight sensitivity?"

"Lights seem brighter, but I'm not burning more," Michael sighed, and looked at his sunglasses. "Not yet, anyhow. I'm afraid that might still happen."

"I don't mean to upset you, but," Giles paused, and sipped his tea before continuing, "Have you noticed any changes in the foods or beverages that you've been craving?"

Michael couldn't answer. He knew that he'd been feeling some cravings, but the words caught in his mouth.

"Ahh. I'll take that as a distressed and dismayed yes," Giles translated.

"That's what I don't want, what I want to avoid. I don't want to become one of them," Michael could feel his hand clenching into a fist, and his stomach churning. "How can I make it stop?"

"I've been searching through some of the older journals for references to people who survived that method. Preferably those that survived without fangs," Giles clarified.

"And?" Michael asked.

"Limited information. I've tried to combine that with a bit of the more modern research and I have composed a list of educated guesses and suggestions, if you'd like to hear them?" One eyebrow rose as he waited for an answer.

"Educated guesses are better than fear and panic," Michael admitted. "I know that you said your best guess was that killing David would make it stop, but he's not here, and I'm not ready to go hunting vampires by myself, so that's not really an option for this week, is it?"

"I suspect that you're craving red meat more than fish or poultry, and probably less thoroughly cooked than before?" Giles sipped at his tea, his posture suggesting that he wanted a response.

Michael nodded. "Sometimes a better description would be almost raw, rather than less thoroughly cooked."

"Go with that. Having some rare or even raw steak or hamburger is a far sight better than grabbing the next wandering salesperson. I suspect that you might also find yourself less inclined towards garlic, and perhaps shifting to later nights and less mornings."

"That... makes sense," Michael admitted.

"You might also consider some sort of high protein, perhaps iron enhanced nutrient shake," Giles suggested.

"Do you think all that would help?" Michael asked, his mind considering those changes. "It almost sounds like going with it right up to the eating people part."

Giles sighed, and rubbed at his temple, "The matter of your scheduling, a possible preference to evenings rather than mornings is quite harmless. The dietary shifts... apart from some nutritionists suspecting a shortage of healthy proteins and a frequent iron shortage, the change in meat preference is something that I hope will sooth the cravings, not encourage them. I hope that these will be temporary measures, until such time as David can be found and killed."

"Temporary... right. That does sound better," Michael smiled, and sipped at the tea. "I think I could try anything as a temporary thing, until we can find him, kill him. It's just..."

"You are concerned, and uncertain how long this will last. You fear losing control just long enough to damn yourself to an eternity of fangs, blood and darkness, unless someone kills you," Giles finished.

Michael nodded, "Yeah, that would be it."

"Does it help that you seem to be getting along well with Buffy and Xander?" Giles asked.

"It does," Michael remembered his talk with Xander, and the promise that Xander had made. That if he did turn into a murderous vampire, Xander would kill him. How that macabre promise had actually helped. He remembered walking and talking with Buffy, with her golden hair and smiles, with her calm confidence. "They're great."

"There is a warning that I must offer you, one that... This is not in my capacity as an expert on vampires. This is in my capacity as a friend and mentor to Buffy in particular," Giles began.

"Okay..." Michael wondered about that, and what the difference was.

"Should you break Buffy's heart, something which has already happened to the young lady far too much, I will personally remove the chance of you becoming a murderous vampire by killing you myself. Whether or not you already have the sharp teeth." Giles was giving him a look that promised that these weren't empty words, that he meant every one of them. That he had several possible methods already planned out. "Is that a clear enough warning?"

Michael swallowed hard, and nodded. "I... yeah, we're clear."

"Excellent."

Michael couldn't look at Giles for a while after that. Instead, he slowly read through the old books about vampires that had used the gradual method, slipping their blood into the local beer or wine and letting the villagers drink it, begin to change, and slaughter each other to bring some of them over into vampire-hood before moving on to battles between groups of vampires. The spelling was strange, and most of it looked hand-written, and there were some awful illustrations. It almost helped to know that it hadn't started in Santa Carla, that his own problems could have been so much worse...

He decided not to mention that he and Buffy were going to see a movie tonight. Somehow he didn't think that the vampire expert and apparently father-figure to Buffy would approve.

end Lost Boy 4: Warning Michael.


	5. A Walk in the Dark

lb5..lb5..lb5..

"So, what's with the earring?" Buffy asked him as they walked towards a cemetery, the last streaks of sunset fading to the west.

Michael chuckled, "My last girlfriend talked me into it."

"Ahhh," Buffy snickered, and then gave a sideways glance at him before looking away towards the cemetery head and asking, "Does that mean you regret getting it?"

"Not really," Michael paused, considering the whole mess with Star, David and nearly becoming a vampire. How he and Star had spent a couple months dating and trying to make things work after the big mess of a fight that had ended up requiring a new stereo and rebuilding one wall of the house.

As they walked through the cemetery gates, he admitted, "The earring's one of the few things I don't regret about getting involved with Star."

"I guess everybody's got some regrets about their exes. My first one... he made a really bad deal with an even worse guy, and it got him killed. For a while, there was this bad boy thrill seeker... my parents hated him. Then there was the hopeless crush, and the guy that tried to feed me to a snake, and... Angel..." Buffy shivered, "In fact, the less said about that mess the better."

"And you found out about vampires sometime during all that?" Michael glanced to the side, wondering if that noise had been the wind or something lurking.

"Creepy old guy in weird clothing popped up talking about destiny and evil things. I didn't want to believe him," Buffy shrugged.

"Evil things like vampires," Michael murmured. This time he was certain that the noise hadn't been the wind.

"Mostly vampires," Buffy agreed, pulling a stake from her purse.

The dog jumped at Buffy first, a big German Sheppard snarling and baring big, yellowed teeth. Buffy made a squeaking noise and tried to stab with her stake while putting her other arm up to keep the dog from her throat.

"No fair having a dog!" Buffy shouted, pushing the dog away from her.

The dog twisted to land on its feet, still growling.

Michael didn't know if Buffy saw the vampire that was crouched behind the tombstone, preparing to attack her while she was distracted by the dog. Or if Buffy realized that the dog's eyes were fading from dog-brown to vampire-yellow. Just like Thorn, Max's dog back in Santa Carla. The dog that Sam's friends had called a hell-hound.

"this is really dumb..." Michael muttered, even as he tackled the vampire before he could attack Buffy.

Tackling the vampire felt remarkably like hitting a narrow wall. Michael ducked the open-handed swipe and retaliated with a fist to the guts, hoping that even if the vampire didn't need to breathe, hitting the solar plexus would hurt. The resulting wheeze was an encouraging sign.

He didn't like the way the vampire managed to roll them away, or the solid thump as his shoulder connected with a tombstone. It did result in Michael getting a good look at the vampire, who reminded him far too much of Paul with a haircut. The vampire was glaring at him with yellow eyes and sharp teeth.

Michael glared right back, and punched as hard as he could, his fist hitting the vampire right in the throat. He felt the vampire's nails drag at his shoulder as he pulled away, could smell the blood in the air. He hated that he could smell the blood.

Gagging, the vampire let go and staggered backwards. He looked like he was about to start snarling threats as soon as he could manage words.

Then he exploded into a spray of blood and dust.

Buffy was standing there, her sleeve torn, stake in hand. She had grass stains on the knee of her jeans, and her purse had fallen, and her hair was coming out of the ponytail.

Michael thought she looked beautiful.

"Tackling the vampire? Not the best strategy to use," Buffy grinned at him, offering the hand that didn't have the stake.

Letting her help him to his feet, Michael winced as his shoulder moved. "I didn't think you'd seen him. You were focused on the dog."

"I do appreciate it," Buffy smiled at him.

"Glad that I could help," Michael grinned back, and then rubbed at his shoulder, "And that wasn't my best idea ever."

"You know, most people don't get into fist fights with vampires," Buffy teased as she turned towards the back of the cemetery. "They kind of have an unfair strength advantage."

"The bruises I'm sure to have tomorrow will help me remember that," he sighed. It bothered him more than he wanted to admit that the vampire hadn't seemed nearly as much stronger than him as it should have seemed. Like tackling the linebacker, rather than tackling a super-strong monster.

He really hoped that Mr. Giles found a way to fix this. Before it was too late.

As he followed Buffy deeper into the cemetery, he tried to figure out the best way to ask if she was alright. Mentioning that he could smell blood that wasn't his and wasn't vampire would not be the way to start. Granted, it didn't smell like a lot of blood… but he wasn't sure if he was supposed to smell blood at all. It wasn't something he'd ever paid attention to before.

"So, when we're finished with this, is there a good place for dinner that will still be open?" He still couldn't figure out a way to ask about her injuries. "Maybe one that won't get too fussy about us being a bit less neat than we were when we left?"

"We can always head over to the Denny's. It isn't great food, but it'll be open, and they've ignored a lot worse than some torn sleeves and a bit of grass and dirt," Buffy shrugged, "Ohh, my purse!"

"What about blood? I'm pretty sure he got my shoulder, and if we aren't done, who knows what else will happen," Michael glanced at Buffy, who was picking up her purse.

"Stupid dog… Why didn't Giles warn me that some vampires have dogs?" She brushed at her purse with a frown, and then sighed. "They shouldn't have any big issues."

"Good?" Michael wasn't quite sure if that was reassuring or not.

end Lost Boy 5: A Walk in the Dark


	6. Ugly Revalations

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Buffy lay on her bed, feet kicking up behind her as she considered the last couple weeks. Since she'd met Michael. He was cute, and seemed kind of nice, and funny, and he wasn't completely freaked out by the vampires. Everything seemed to be off to a wonderful start. It was almost too good to be true.

Wait a minute… there was something she kept hearing. If something sounds too good to be true, it's probably a trick.

Vampires. He'd showed up in Sunnydale to talk to Giles about something to do with vampires. He'd tackled that vampire in the cemetery. He wasn't freaking out about the fangy bitey types.

Angel hadn't freaked out, and he'd been a vampire. Been a vampire, turned evil, tormented her and her friends, and she'd had to just as bad as kill him. He'd never really forgiven her for that, no matter how much he'd claimed he had. Then again, she hadn't forgiven herself for sending Angel to Hell either. That had been a long, drawn out mess that wound up hurting everybody.

Ford hadn't freaked out. Then again, he'd had the crazy idea that getting turned into a vampire would be a good thing. He'd tried to give her to Spike and Drusilla, and they'd turned him. She'd wound up having to stake her old crush and maybe could have been boyfriend when he'd rose in the cemetery. Also a mess.

Now Michael wasn't freaking out. That couldn't be good. Her track record for guys that didn't freak out wasn't that good.

"I have to talk to him and figure out what his damage is," Buffy decided.

Naturally, it wasn't that simple. First there was class, and then a bit of time on homework before she forgot everything about the chapter. Then a bit of training with Giles.

Then it took what felt like hours before she could find Michael. He was lounging under a tree in the little so-called park that was more of an open area with some trees and bushes near the hotel he was staying in while he was in Sunnydale. In the sunshine.

Buffy had no words for how much of a relief it was to see Michael in the sunshine.

"Hey there. Can we talk?" Buffy tried to smile as she walked towards him.

Michael grinned at her, and patted the ground beside him. "Sure. I was just enjoying the sunshine."

Buffy couldn't help but notice that he had a pair of sunglasses tucked into his jacket pocket, even if they and the jacket were on the ground beside him.

For several long moments, they just sat there, basking in the sunshine and peace. It was relaxing.

"So, what's the what with why you needed to talk to Giles? And does it have anything to do with you tackling vampires?" Buffy decided to just go for it and ask.

"You won't like it," Michael glanced at her, and then his eyes turned to a thinning spot on the knee of his jeans as he admitted, "I don't like it.'

"Life's full of things that I don't like," Buffy countered. "Like the fact that this one class is only offered either really early or the same time as another class I need. Or the yummy foods being fattening."

"Remember I said my last girlfriend talked me into the earring? Part of the reasons that things went bad with that..." Michael swallowed, and then mumbled, "When we first met, she already had a boyfriend. A real creepy, scary jerk."

"Lots of people wind up dating jerks at least once," Buffy had a bad feeling about this.

"David was a jerk and a vampire," Michael glanced at her. "And his boss... the vampire in charge... he decided that he wanted my mom. It was... creepy."

"I'm with you on the wigging out over a vampire after your mom, but what's that got to do with you needing to talk to Giles now?" Buffy's bad feeling was getting worse.

"Turns out Max and David had this awful plan that would have resulted in me and my brother both winding up dead or vampires. I'm not sure David cared which, Max wanted vampires. So we could all be one big blood-sucking family," Michael shuddered.

Buffy's bad feeling was starting to feel an awful lot like she was going to throw up. "He wanted to turn you into a vampire? But..." she waved her hand around. "Sunshine! Pulse! You aren't the blood-sucking undead."

"Turns out there's another way," Michael sighed. "And I wanted to find someone to make sure it was really over. Or to help figure out a way to make it over if it wasn't."

"They..." Buffy felt like her chest was being squeezed. "They tried to make you a vampire? But... You aren't dead. No fangs. No bitey blood drinking. You aren't..."

"I almost was." the words were very low.

Even softer were the next words. "There's things that make me think it isn't done with just yet."

For an awful moment, Buffy was certain that she'd wake up now. That all this would be some horrible nightmare. But it was real.

She really wanted to scream. Or maybe throw up. Neither one would be a good way to handle anything.

"I'm not dealing with this again. I can't go through it, not again," Buffy lurched to her feet, the world feeling out of focus and off balance around her.

"Buffy...' Michael reached towards her.

Buffy flinched. "Don't touch me!"

The next thing Buffy knew, she was in the back room at the Magic Box, beating on the big punching bag. She could still feel tears on her face. It just wasn't fair...

"I knew things were too good to last..." Buffy whispered, hitting the bag again.

end Lost Boy 6: Ugly Revelations.


	7. A Dumb Plan

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Michael watched Buffy go, the tears leaving shining trails down her cheeks. She didn't even want him to touch her... It hurt, and he wished that he was surprised, or that this wasn't happening.

It didn't help. Didn't go away, or change.

He understood being upset. He was pretty upset about this whole mess himself. And the fact that those little things that had added up to thinking it was a good idea to find an expert had only gotten stronger.

Tackling that vampire had only left him feeling stiff and foolish, with a small bruise on his shoulder from hitting that tombstone. Nowhere near as bad as he should have been feeling. Not as bad as a human should have felt. He'd also been ordering his steaks a lot less cooked - medium rare instead of the well-done that he'd chosen after David's supposed to be death, or the medium that he'd gone with before.

"I'm running out of time, and it's not getting any better," he whispered to the air.

For a long while, Michael stood in the sunlight, wondering what to do now. If there was a way to fix this, fix everything.

"I tried the smart way. I found an expert who wouldn't laugh at me, and asked for help. He hasn't found anything," Michael spoke softly. He didn't think that Mr. Giles was trying to hold out on him, or hiding anything that would help, but... he hadn't found anything to solve things either. Background information, lots about how this could go wrong - yes, chapters and volumes worth. But nothing to fix it.

An idea blossomed in his mind. "If the smart way isn't working, maybe I should try the dumb one. It worked, or at least bought time before."

He went to find Xander. At the least, he could bounce his dumb idea off Xander, maybe he'd help shape it up into something a little less dumb and more workable.

Xander waved, an easy grin as he called, "Hey Michael."

His own reply was much less cheerful, more of a grunt.

"Whoa, someone's in a bad mood," Xander frowned. "Is this a you need to talk, or a you need someone to make sure you don't try to drive after one too many to drink bad mood?"

"I... yeah, but here's not a good place," Michael could feel his shoulders slumping. "It's got to do with ugly stuff in my past."

"Ugly coming back to bite you kind of ugly?" Xander asked, and then frowned, "Does Buffy know about this?"

Michael winced.

"Now we're in the really bad news zone," Xander shook his head. "Come on, there's a quiet park. No eavesdropping, not too much chance of interruptions..."

In a few minutes, they were sitting at a faded picnic table in a wedge-shaped little park that had a view of an apartment complex in one direction, and an old cemetery in another, with the third side of the wedge shaped park being bordered by a road. Xander gestured as if to draw attention to the relative privacy, and said, "Spill it."

"Remember how I told you about the mess with David? My ex-girlfriend's scary vampire boyfriend?" Michael began.

"The one that almost gave you fangs," Xander nodded. "You said you were worried that things weren't all done... and that means that whatever made you start worrying is getting worse, isn't it?"

"Buffy freaked out. Said she wasn't going through this again, she didn't want..." Michael paused, his emotions in a mess and his teeth feeling weirdly sensitive in a way that brought back horrible memories. "She didn't take it well."

"This is more than Buffy freaking out, isn't it?" Xander looked thoughtful. "What bit of crazy is going through your head now?"

"I've been trying the smart way, which was asking Mr. Giles to find something, anything to fix this. That's got a lot of reasons why fixing it would be great, but nothing about how to make that happen," Michael's hands had clenched into fists. His nails were cutting into his palms, though he didn't think he'd drawn blood yet. He didn't smell blood...

"Which means you're thinking about the dumb plan," Xander finished. "Share your dumb plan, let's see how it compares to some of mine."

"Go back to Santa Carla. Find David, and then kill him or die trying."

"David's the vampire, right?" Xander paused for Michael to nod. "Yup, that's a dumb plan. Right up with a few of mine."

"Got a better one? One that doesn't involve giving up and sprouting fangs, I mean," Michael added.

"Sort of. Same idea, but you don't go alone," Xander folded his arms. "Simple, direct, and we take a lot of weapons."

"I can't ask you to do this..." Michael started to shake his head.

"You didn't ask - I offered. Not sprouting fangs is an idea I fully support. Killing the fangy bastard that might ruin that plan is also something I support. I'm of the opinion, which Buffy hasn't always shared, that killing the vampire generally helps." Xander gave a lop-sided grin.

"I'm not sure two of us would be better odds..." Michael frowned.

"Maybe Oz will help, he's... well, that might depend on when you want to do this. And if Oz goes, Willow might to, and she's got the mojo," Xander looked thoughtful.

"It's still a crazy plan, isn't it?" Michael sighed.

"Yup." Xander's grin held more than a hint of old and ugly memories. "A crazy, half-baked thin plan. We tend to do best with those instead of the more detailed ones. Someone always forgets the details. But you're almost a scooby now, and we try not to let each other go off into danger alone."

"Because dragging your friends along is so much better," Michael whispered.

"Because it's better for everyone to get a bit bruised and scraped than someone to get drowned in a giant underground puddle," Xander corrected.

There had to be a story there, but Michael decide not to ask. "If we want Oz and Willow along, when do we not go?"

Xander pulled out a little calendar, one that had the phases of the moon written into the pages. There was also a notation about some sort of Feast of St. something that Michael couldn't read, and a note that read - Anya, girl's night out. "Kay, full moon's the seventeenth, so... if we go this weekend, we should be okay, they won't miss their classes, I won't miss work, and we can get this done with fast."

"Do I even want to know what the full moon has to do with anything?" Michael was reminded of the horror-comic obsessed guys that Sam had befriended. "Are we trying to avoid werewolves or something?"

"More like the only one with a vehicle big enough for all of us plus weapons is the werewolf..." Xander muttered.

Michael decided that he didn't want to know. Really.

end Lost Boy 7: A Dumb Plan


	8. Bad Plans in Action

..lb8..lb8..lb8..lb8..

Xander contacted him the next day, with a voice mail that only made sense because of their talk. Honestly - 'The plan is go, got the party loaded for major badness but not pocali. Keep your Saturday open and don't forget the bandages.'

If the whole thing wasn't so serious, Michael would have to call him back just to harass Xander about the message. And he doubted that 'pocali' would be the right plural for apocalypse, it sounded too much like a vegetable - pocali, the lesser known cousin to broccoli. He didn't like dragging Xander, Willow, and Oz into this either, but he'd already tried to tell Xander that, and it hadn't worked. Though he did rather like the idea of not having to fight David alone...

Saturday started with Michael fretting over 'the plan', and wondering just how badly he was going to get his new friends hurt by dragging them into his mess. The zebra-striped van playing classic Beatles that pulled up a little before noon was distinctive, and somehow perfectly Oz. The whole situation just seemed somehow unreal.

Michael settled into one of the back seats, with a small wave to Xander. Then he blinked as he realized that there was a sword hiding under the jacket, and a crossbow that wasn't quite covered by the donut box. "Swords and crossbows? Isn't that..."

"Those we hide in case of meeting Mister Police Officer, who probably wouldn't understand. The squirt guns filled with holy water can be out in the open, because nobody thinks of those as weapons," Xander grinned at him.

"Unless they heard you and Jesse talking about how the Joker should have just used squirt guns filled with acid or his toxic smile juice if he was really the crazy villain," Willow countered. "I haven't been able to look at a squirt gun quite the same ever since."

Michael gave a small smile, "I wouldn't want to explain swords to the police either."

Xander nodded before reaching into the donut box, "Want one? Sugar helps with the crazy plans. And you need to tell us what you can about your fangy bastard and any help he might have."

The donut did help, though as he talked about David and the rest of Max's boys and how they'd been killed he was quite glad that Xander hadn't brought any with the red jelly filling.

"None of ours fly," Oz commented.

"A fact for which we are all quite pleased," Xander added, before frowning, "Tell me I didn't just sound like Giles there. Please?"

Michael caught a glimpse of Oz smiling, reflected in the mirror. Bending the truth just a little, he countered, "Not like Giles at all." He waited for a moment before adding, "You just don't have the accent."

Willow just started to giggle. Xander made an exaggerated pout, and grabbed another donut.

If they hadn't moved on to discussing how to adapt their usual tactics to include the chance of flying vampires, Michael would have thought the whole scene rather silly and childish. But he was starting to recognize when you needed a bit of laughter to keep from screaming about the awful things. Things like maybe getting killed, or seeing your friends killed... or getting turned into one of the things that might kill them. The advantages of ranged weapons, as well as the fact that all of them were experienced in using them, could only help.

He still blinked when a pair of glazed donuts floated out of the box, one to Willow's hand and the other to Oz, who gave a low, 'thanks sweetie.'

No matter how many times he'd heard about Willow 'having the mojo', it was still a bit unsettling to see things like that. It also made him wonder just how much she could really do. And what Xander had in mind for Willow's mojo in today's not-so-fun adventures. He also couldn't help but wonder how much training she had, and what could go wrong with 'the mojo'.

Michael could admit to himself that he was frightened. Facing David had been terrifying the first time, when he didn't really know much about what was happening, only that it was serious, and bad, and that David and Max were after him and his mom. It had been a mess, and a small miracle that none of them had been killed. Today... today he knew just how ugly things could get. It was just that the cost of doing nothing was worse than the possible costs of looking for David.

end part 1.

"We can stop at my grandpa's while we sort out what to do," Michael suggested, feeling anxious to get out of the van and stretch his legs.

"Does he know about the vampires?" Xander asked. "And about… well, your issue?"

"Vampires, yes. My issue? No, and I'd prefer it stays that way," Michael answered.

"I guess we won't have as much trouble explaining if he sees the weapons then," Willow then frowned before asking a question. "Does he know that you're planning to at least on this one occasion fight vampires, or would he prefer you stay fray-adjacent?"

"He'd prefer I stay fray-adjacent, but if I mention that it looks like David's back, he'll understand that I can't just stay out of the way and hope someone else does something," Michael explained. "He's spent a long time being fray-adjacent himself, but he'd act if he knew someone were after him or his family. He's just… I don't think he's up to fighting vampires anymore."

"Your grandpa's probably no spring chicken, and fighting vampires is definitely not a good plan for those who could break something by falling," Xander paused, "I'm not sure it's a good idea for us, but we're doing it anyhow. Have been for years."

"Guys…" Michael didn't know what to say.

"It needs done," Oz commented.

"And we volunteered to help you with this problem. If not us, then who? Not everybody knows, and if those of us who know stand back and do nothing, then… well, then you get monsters roaming the street eating people, sunset curfews, and the graduating class eaten by a giant snake before the world becomes the newest suburb of hell. That just doesn't sound like anybody's idea of fun, with the chance of it being fatal being one of the better options, and.."

Oz put a hand over Willow's mouth, "You're babbling again."

Michael managed a smile, "thanks."

It happened that Michael's prediction about his grandpa was spot-on. Though there was a comment about at least they wouldn't need to borrow his car this time. Michael had no intention of sharing that story, even if the Scoobies asked later. There was a passable lunch, during which he was caught up on the news that Mom was still running her movie store in LA and dating someone that grandpa didn't much like but at least could go out in the daytime. Sam was off at college, and according to Grandpa paying too much attention to pretty girls and not enough to his grades. There was a bit of laughter and the agreement that it was easy to pay attention to pretty girls.

"There must be a reason why you kids brought in some crossbows. Am I going to like it?" Grandpa asked.

"David isn't dead enough," Michael growled.

His grandpa looked at him for a few moments before shaking his head, "Just… don't get killed or come back with fangs."

"I have no intention of becoming a vampire," Michael shuddered. "That's been one of my nightmares since the first time around."

If his grandpa noticed that he hadn't promised not to get killed, Grandpa didn't say anything. Instead, Grandpa retreated to his workshop, which Xander had peaked into and pronounced 'creepy'.

"Do we find David, or does David find you?" Xander asked.

"If he doesn't show up, I can try a tracking spell," Willow offered.

Michael sighed, "I don't know how active he is, or if he's just not dead enough."

"Then the first stop should be checking the hole where you dumped fang-boy. If he's there, we torch him and go home. If he's not there… then it sucks that the easy way is out, but nobody'll be too surprised by that anyhow," Xander suggested.

"If he's up and about, he might come after me," Michael ran his hand through his hair, "He's probably not pleased that I almost killed him before. I just wish I'd killed him a little better."

"They are rather big on the whole revenge thing," Xander agreed. "He'll probably come after you, possibly with minions, and the plan will be death, possibly pain and then death. Let's just flip that around on him."

Michael nodded. He still thought parts of this were a bad idea, but they didn't have a better one. And he'd rather be dead than a vampire. "I don't think he'll be alone. Compared to the Sunnydale vampires, David's almost a social butterfly. He'll want company, but he'll want to stay in charge."

"Sounds pretty normal for a vampire then," Xander shrugged.

End part 2.

With the use of the van, it didn't take long before they reached an unwelcoming stretch of cliff, with rocks and wind-twisted trees. For a few moments, Michael tried to remember where they had buried David. They hadn't wanted to leave any sort of obvious grave marker – it would draw too much attention. Finally, he pointed at a tree marked with an old lightning scar, "Under that one. Away from the cliff."

Fifteen minutes later and they concluded there were no bones, no bodies of anything bigger than an old rabbit, and it wasn't just a matter of having turned a little too far or not far enough. Simply, there was no body was under this tree.

Willow knelt down, ignoring the reddish dirt and murmured a few words that might have been Latin. A section of the turned up soil took on a pale glow. Her eyes were closed as she murmured, "There was a vampire buried here. The vampire rose… not quite a month ago?"

"I was already on my way to Sunnydale then, looking for a vampire expert," Michael mused. "I'd been noticing things changing."

"Right, that funky almost turned into a vampire without getting killed first thing," Xander nodded.

"Yeah, that thing," Michael couldn't help smirking at the way Xander summed up one of his ugliest fears.

"Do you think he'll know you're here? I think I can track him… sort of. Not enough to give us an address, not without a map and some herbs, but I can get a feel. He's that way, not quite all the way to town," Willow let the words spill out, gesturing along the coast.

Michael stared along the coast, and shook his head, "He went back there. He said it was a fancy hotel before an earthquake tipped it over, and they'd taken it over. All the comforts of home with dozens of feet of rocks between them and the sunshine."

Xander just shook his head, "Typical high end vampire lair. I guess it does beat an abandoned factory, but… so much for go in the daytime and open all the windows."

Michael managed a chuckle, "That would be convenient. Are there ever vampires that stupid… careless?"

Oz nodded, with a thin smirk, "Yep."

"Unbelievable," Michael shook his head. "Hitting the grave is a bust, let's get back to Grandpa's and plan a few things. Here feels too open."

As they were all settling back into the van, Michael looked towards Willow and asked a question that he knew he wouldn't like the answer for – "How do you know that was the right place?"

"This whole mess is because a vampire named David tried to turn you, right? And this same vampire is the one who was buried under that tree. There's a tiny little connection between you and him, from what he did to you that's made you freak out and go looking for a vampire expert, and that means I can track him because of that connection to you, 'cause he's on the other end of that thread. And he's not in that hole anymore, though he was for a while. So now we can either wait for him to find you or try to track him down with it, which doesn't sound easy, 'cause he'd be a moving target and it's kind of like trying to find the end of a thread flapping in the wind and…"

Oz put his hand over Willow's mouth again and translated, "Magic connection, follow the magic link-scent. Bad guy's that way."

"We can always count on Oz to put the Willow-babble in the shortest, simplest terms," Xander smiled.

All that remained was the planning and the fight to the death. Hopefully David's death. And with their Sunnydale experiences to point out just how awake vampires could be during the day, it was quickly decided not to go looking for David inside the collapsed hotel.

End part 3.

In the end, their plan was sketchy. Too many things depended on what David would do, and how many other vampires he might have with him. If he'd attack tonight or if he'd stay away, lurking. If he was still weakened, and if so, how weak compared to before. While Michael had a slight advantage from his unwelcome vampire traits, he didn't like that, hated the idea of counting on it, and they flat-out scared him. The only benefit to the whole mess was that his current mess didn't seem to make Xander, Oz and Willow afraid of him. Xander had promised not to let him turn into 'another fanged bastard', Oz had just blinked – what did it take to get a reaction out of him anyhow? – and Willow had babbled. Buffy… he wasn't going to think about that right now. Thinking about Buffy and how she'd reacted hurt.

"I say we give a little time to see if he's going to try to attack you, now that he's not dirt-napping and you're back in the area. We can get things ready for if he shows up, and just wait in relative comfort with the rest of the donuts. Then if he doesn't, we can track him down later," Xander suggested.

"That sounds better than trying to attack the old hotel tonight," Michael admitted. "So, how much is a little time?"

After considerable discussion of schedules and the need for sleep as compared to the power of caffeine and sugar, they figured that they'd wait tonight. If David didn't attack tonight, with or without minions, then they'd crash around dawn, and plan for attacking the hotel the next day. This plan was kicked around and they decided that instead of just sitting around eating donuts, they'd work on plans for if they needed to attack the hotel. This would keep them from forgetting about the possible vampire attack and have a plan before they needed to go get things for their attack. While they had that debate that didn't manage to become an argument, Willow stepped outside for something. Nobody worried too much, as it was still daylight, though that was fading by the time she stepped back into the room.

Xander insisted that they could still finish the donuts while planning a possible attack on a sunken hotel turned vampire lair.

While Michael tried to sketch out a map of the hotel, or as close as he could remember, Xander and Oz had what was almost an argument over the last donut, resorting to a quick game of rock-paper-scissors to determine who got the donut. The victory and the donut went to Oz, leaving Xander to give an exaggerated pout and an accusation of trying to starve him of the sweets that he himself brought along, before dragging forward a box and producing a Twinkie to eat. Willow was giggling through the whole thing.

Then Willow stopped giggling, "Guys? We have incoming vampires."

"Magic trip lines?" Michael asked, raising one eyebrow even as he moved towards the crossbow.

"I haven't figured out how to make them set off any attacks yet, but I can make them so they let me know when a certain type of company is heading into an area. I just set one up around the property – just inside the little fence – to let s know if any vampires show up. More than one, and I think David's in the group." Willow sighed, "if I could just tie in a bright flash, or maybe a fire spell…"

"Goals for the future," Oz smiled as he touched Willow's arm.

"Do you think they'll come to the front door, or try the back?" Xander asked, picking up an axe and passing the sword to Oz.

"I…" Michael paused before shrugging, "Would like to know that one myself. Maybe we should split up and keep an eye on both?"

End part 4.

Willow and Oz headed towards the front door, and Xander muttered something about horror movies loving decisions like that and making sure that they were always, always the wrong choice before taking a few steps towards Michael. Certain that the immediate future would hold both fear and pain, but hopefully not human death, they moved towards the back of the house.

"This is going to get ugly, I just know it," Michael muttered.

"I'd say it got ugly as soon as vamps got involved, but there are a few who'd call me a bit biased," Xander countered. "You need the help, and I volunteered."

Michael managed a laugh, more than a bit bitter and tinged with that feeling that if he wasn't laughing he might be screaming. He didn't want to scream, and he didn't want to curl up in a corner and give up. He was going to fight – even if it killed him. Though he'd rather it kill David.

Antelope horns. Antelope horns and burying the body… What had they been thinking?

"Did you really think it would be that easy, Mikey?" The mocking tones of David's voice were easy to recognize. They'd only haunted his nightmares since he'd first met the vampire.

"I'd hoped for a while," Michael frowned at the blond vampire. David looked almost like he remembered, though without the jacket. Ripped pants, dark tee shirt, the same bleached blond hair. He looked a little thinner, a little deader, if that made sense, but still David.

"Please tell me you never invited the fanged blond into your house," Xander muttered.

"We've got ways around that in Santa Carla," David grinned. "My pal's going to like meeting your little friends. I doubt it'll be mutual though."

"Remind me to have a long talk with you on some of those details that you skipped about round one of vampires causing problems for you when we get through this," Xander shook his head. "They can fly, they don't need an invitation… awful."

"Another vampire hunter, Mikey? Is this one going to be better than those other two?" David taunted.

"I'd hope so, but I've been living in Sunnydale, not Santa Carla, so what would I know?" Xander snarked.

"Sunnydale?" David looked surprised.

Michael took advantage of David's surprise – dare he hope that the vampire was shocked, or even intimidated? – to squirt at him with the Holy Water, spiked with a bit of garlic oil and lemon juice. His friends had insisted that even if garlic's only effect on vampires was a powerful stench, it couldn't feel good to get that stuff in your eyes. That was also the reasoning behind the lemon juice. The spray didn't catch David's eyes, but it did go across his chest and the side of his neck, even catching his cheek a bit.

David snarled, his eyes going yellow and his teeth turning to wicked fangs as the water burned him. "Still a fighter, Mikey."

Xander attacked from behind, the axe gleaming in his hands and whistling through the air. David twisted, attempting to avoid the blow. He didn't quite manage, and the axe left a deep gash down the back of his left shoulder and past the rib cage, deep enough to show bone. David wasn't laughing anymore.

Then things sped up, and Michael was having trouble tracking everything. He dodged as David tried to rip him open with his claws or to snap with his fangs, he squirted the water and swung the sword. He could feel his own teeth getting sharper as they fought. He could feel places that would bruise if he lived that long. Somehow, he'd split open his cheek, and there were shallow slashes along his right arm, spaced in a way that suggested David's claws had caught him.

The fight had moved from the hallway into what had been his bedroom. Furniture had been broken, the mirror frame was almost empty, with some broken shards still hanging there with the majority on the floor. The dresser and the mirror frame itself were broken, and there were cracks and gouges in the wall, torn by claws and axe and fists.

If he survived this, Grandpa would be furious.

Michael grabbed part of the broken mirror frame, swinging it at David's head like a baseball bat. He'd lost the sword during the fight. The broken wooden post clipped David's arm, giving a solid thump that shook not only David's arm but Michael's as well.

Unfortunately, that left Michael open to attack. David moved, eyes burning, jaws gaping open. Faster than the vampires in Sunnydale, faster than Michael could evade. David's fangs tore into his shoulder.

Michael was certain that he was screaming. He raised the broken post, rotating it so the sharper end was towards him, and stabbed inwards. The jagged point slid right into David…

… and kept going into his own body.

For Michael, everything dissolved into a red and black haze. Sound blurred into something like a drumbeat. It was getting slower. Slower. As everything faded away, Michael hoped that the pain would stop.

End part 5.

End Lost Boy 8: Bad Plans in Action


	9. Lost Opportunities

Buffy walked along the sidewalk, her book-bag and purse wobbling at her side. Nobody needed to know about the stakes in both, or the spray bottle of Holy Water. Willow kept suggesting that she add a touch of perfume or some of that scented oil to the Holy Water, but she hadn't. Buffy wasn't sure if it would still work against the vampires, and that wasn't the sort of thing that it was smart to test in an emergency. Vampires were bitey nasty pests, and if it didn't work, then you'd have fangs where they shouldn't go... which was anywhere, not just certain places.

Her mind kept going back to Michael. He was cute, and had been trying to help her with patrols, and hadn't freaked out. He was fun to talk to and didn't try to repress everything. Giles and Xander seemed to like him.

He'd almost been turned into a vampire. He said it was still a possible problem.

Cute, not freaking out boy... another round of vampire-fueled angst and drama. She didn't want to see if it would balance out. Except maybe part of her did want to find out.

Come to think of it, she hadn't seen him for a while. Not since she'd freaked out at him in the park.

It was bad not to see people for a while in Sunnydale. Too many people had bad, awful, often fatal things happen. Especially if they were assumed to be connected to her, the Slayer. Which totally sucked and wasn't fair, but demons and vampires generally weren't of the fair natured sort.

Buffy blinked, realizing that she was in front of the Magic Box. "Huh. Since I'm here, maybe I should ask Giles if he and Michael have made any progress on that nasty issue?"

Buffy ducked into the building, hoping that Anya hadn't tried to overcrowd the shelves again. She didn't need her bag knocking things onto the floor, especially since she had no intention of buying any of the... whatever that stuff was. Drums and carved chunks of wood and big hoop things with feathers and threads and beads.

Anya was at the cash register, as usual, and glared at Buffy when she saw her. That part was different. Buffy just hoped Anya wasn't trying to blame her for cutting into her sex time again by whatever twisted Anya-logic the demon girl was going to use this time. She still had no idea what Xander saw in Anya.

"Is Giles in?" Buffy tried to be polite, figuring she owed Xander that much.

"Giles is in the back," Anya was still glaring at Buffy. "Talking with Xander."

"Cool," Buffy headed towards the back. If Xander was back there, Giles couldn't be too deep into the big demon books, and Xander generally made things less stress and awful. It was one of his best features, as far as Buffy was concerned.

Seeing her Watcher and her friend, Buffy smiled, "Hey guys. I was wondering if you've got anywhere on that problem Michael was having?"

"Now you care?" Xander was glaring at her. "A bit late now, isn't it?"

Buffy blinked, "What?"

"Where was your concern last week, when you pretty much told Michael you thought he was a monster? When you told him he wasn't worth taking a little time to help?" Xander was glaring.

"Michael came to me in hopes of finding a thorough, proper solution to a horrible problem. One that has seldom been faced, as few can remain among the living when subjected to a more subtle method of turning. They find themselves unable to resist the temptations of the blood-lust and the increased abilities. Or they fear what is happening and kill themselves. I've only been able to find a few other cases of anyone resisting the blood for more than a few months. His own events… it took place several years ago. The traditional Watcher response was not a good choice, as it was to kill the afflicted as a probable vampire and burn the body," Giles was polishing his glasses. "We were hoping to find a kinder, less fatal option."

Buffy blinked, a sound that didn't manage to be words at all emerging.

"You freaked out. As good as called him a vampire." Xander was still glaring. "He's got as many issues with the fang set as I do. He decided that he was done trying to wait for a smart solution and when you freaked out, he figured he didn't have anything else to lose and went with the fast and dumb plan."

"Fast and dumb?" Buffy could feel herself going cold at the angry words.

"Go find David and fight him. Either the vampire gets killed and the problem's solved, or Michael gets killed and doesn't have to worry about it anymore anyhow. Either way, problem solved. Great job, Buffy," Xander almost growled.

"But he shouldn't be fighting a vampire on his own!" Buffy protested. She hadn't... it hadn't been like that, had it? Michael wouldn't really go off and face probable death because she freaked out… would he?

"He wasn't on his own." Xander's words were ice cold. "We went with him. Fought David and David's pal."

"What happened?" Buffy wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Willow and Oz took out the buddy vamp. David went for Michael. It was a big, nasty messy fight." Xander sat down, his eyes closing.

"Did you guys win?" Buffy hoped the answer was yes. Teamwork could help a bunch.

"Michael said he'd rather die than wind up a vampire. He also wanted David dead more than he cared about getting out of the mess alive." Xander paused, swallowed hard and whispered, "Michael staked David through the heart with a broken mirror frame."

"That's great news!" Buffy smiled. Her smile faltered when Xander didn't grin back. "It's good news, right? Right?"

"David had his teeth in Michael's shoulder at the time. He staked David, and the vamp's dusted for real this time, but it also went right through his own chest." Xander was giving her this flat, cold look.

"Michael said he'd rather die than wind up like David. You made it so he didn't think he had time to keep looking for a smart plan. Michael meant it."

"Oh my God…" Buffy gasped. "He wasn't… I didn't… nobody was supposed to get killed."

"David's dead, you don't have the drama of another boyfriend with fangs, isn't that what you wanted, Buffy?" Xander was still glaring.

"Not like that!" Buffy protested.

"You weren't the only one who suffered. You aren't the only one with vampire issues. You can't just freak out and not bother to care about anybody else freaking out or having problems." Xander sighed, and shook his head. "Just… just go elsewhere. Anya and I still think he wouldn't have decided to go with the fast and dumb plan if you hadn't stomped on him like that and ditched him. Willow and Oz are kind of freaked out by someone stabbing himself in the chest to get rid of a vampire. We're trying to cope ourselves, and can't help you get over the problem that you're freaked out because you kind of liked another guy that was having fang issues."

Buffy left the Magic Box, her eyes stinging with tears. She'd never thought about what her reactions could do to someone else. And as mean as Xander's words had felt, he raised a point. She hadn't been the only one hurt.

He probably wouldn't have wanted to hurt her if he wasn't upset by his new friend doing suicide by vampire. No, maybe not suicide by vampire, more like the take your enemy with you. Maybe Michael couldn't win, but he made sure David lost.

It hurt to think of Michael dead. Hurt more to think that she'd upset him enough to do that to himself.

Maybe she could talk with her mom about this?

End Lost Boy 9: Lost Opportunities.


	10. Lost Hopes

"This isn't what was supposed to happen," the voice speaking was a woman with a soft southern twang. Not the sound of Phoenix, but somewhere further east.

Everything was still red-black, and he felt nothing from his body. Considering that the last thing he remembered was a fistfight with David, that meant either it was very important to listen to this woman, or a very, very bad sign that things had gone horribly wrong. Maybe both.

"Then what was?" Michael tried to see the woman, to see anything.

"Depends on who you ask. Max wanted you and your mother to become part of his family. He had... well, he did have some decent qualities, but not enough to make up for the fact that he ate people. His plan was you and your mother as vampires, possibly helping guide David and his friends into being a little less eternal rebellious teenagers."

"I didn't like that plan then, and I still don't," Michael thought he was frowning.

"I wouldn't expect you to like that one. Or David's plan, which was yet another eternal teenager running wild and eating people. He wouldn't have wanted to keep just anybody, so he considered it to be a good thing that he wanted to keep you. A sign of resourcefulness, that he thought you could adapt. You did kill him by the way, which made him both impressed and angry."

"That's disturbing," Michael had no other way to describe the idea that David had been impressed that he'd almost killed him, then really killed him. But he was very pleased to think that this time David was dead. "Wait, who else was making plans about me?"

"Giles wanted to help you, to find a better solution than the one you used." The woman sounded almost wistful. "He's good like that, even if he doesn't always find what he wants."

"How would you know?" Michael tried to focus on the woman's voice.

"I knew him, for a while. Before I died," she sounded sad now.

"You're dead?" Michael still couldn't see anything, couldn't feel his body. "Am I dead?"

"I've been dead for a little while now. But that's... time's funny on this side. Time, dimension... the Giles you met might not be the exact Giles I met, but he's still Giles, if that makes sense. To use your brother's comic references, think of your world as Earth One, and mine as Earth Two - almost but not quite the same. So who I am isn't really important here," she spoke again.

"Ohh," Michael wanted to blink and stare at her in surprise, but he still couldn't see or feel anything. It was disturbing to realize just how much he'd picked up listening to Sam when her explanation made perfect sense to him.

"So who else had plans, and did those get derailed as well?" Michael wasn't sure he'd like the answer, but if he wasn't dead, it might be important. Considering that this woman said she was dead, it could still be important anyhow.

"A group of entities... we call them Powers. They call themselves The Powers That Be, and yes, there are capitals there," she sounded like she might be smiling. "Their plans involved you getting tangled up with Buffy, continuing to change, and Buffy winding up in another completely messed up painful relationship with a vampire, one with the chance to damage everybody around. They could yank her around by threats to you, and yank you around by offering hints about a possible cure and taking them away to keep everything just so, then let you turn when they wanted Buffy to self destruct and get replaced with someone new to yank around. And all the while, they'd still look like the side of good."

Michael didn't have words vile enough to convey what he felt. He tried anyhow.

"S-some of those must have come f-from Giles... and Anya?" the woman sounded curious and slightly appalled.

"Ummm... sorry," Michael wanted to duck his head and felt a bit ashamed at using such words in front of someone that might be a gently raised nice girl. She at least sounded that way. "I don't like those plans either."

"Understandable."

"So what happens now? Things with Buffy... she found out and decided to cut things off hard and fast." The memory of her expression, the utter despair and revulsion on her face still burned.

"I've been working with a few other Powers. These don't like what the main group are doing, but haven't got the numbers to openly fight. They're trying to get a bit more free will, more presenting information and choices and less follow the path or else."

"Choices are good..." Michael paused, feeling like he was missing something. He thought about what she'd said for a few moments, hearing a part of his mind sounding remarkably like Giles mutter 'for God's sake, you have a brain, use it to come up with the answer. Do you need to be told everything?'

Feeling embarrassed that it took him so long to figure out what she meant, he mumbled, "Ohh. You're saying that these other powers have managed to give me some choices. What are they?"

"The first option is that you can die and slip on to your judgment. I don't know what that judgment would be, but if you're ready to go, to be done with your life, you can. You had some awful situations, and had to cope with things beyond any reasonable expectations. Add in the nasty chest wound and massive blood loss..." There was a pause, and then she sighed, "If not for the plans They were trying to force you into, you'd probably just die without another option."

"A bit depressing, but I knew there was a risk." Michael paused, and then asked, "What other options do I have?"

"Your second choice is actually pretty close to a situation someone else is in, though hopefully with a lot less brooding. Willow and Anya tried a lot of magic to prevent an evil vampire with your face and memories from waking up and causing problems. There is an option for you to be... I guess a vampire with a soul and a conscience is the shortest description."

"Like that Angel guy?" Michael wanted to make a face. "No way. I like cheeseburgers and pizza with garlic breadsticks and I really like not getting third degree burns from stray sunbeams. I'll pass on that idea."

He swore he heard her giggle.

"Is there another choice?" Michael didn't know if he'd like the other options any better.

"Third choice is to wake up, possibly end up with some serious long term injuries from stabbing yourself through the chest, and maybe end up an advisor to other hunters; hunters who are in better physical shape. We could arrange for you the get more information, and arrange for you to meet possible allies."

"Got to admit, I don't care for the maybe crippled aspect of that plan," Michael muttered.

"Fourth and final option is for you to wake up, but wind up still what we'd call partially changed. Stronger, faster, accelerated healing. A bit more light sensitive, you might need to pick up blood from local butcher's shops, but Willow's spells would have made it so you wouldn't change the rest of the way. You'd just still have the temptations of a blood thirst. You'd be able to go into a fight with more of the monsters on a physical level," she explained.

"So I can die, I can wake up human and possibly crippled, or I can wake up with fangs and find myself fighting monsters for the rest of my life?" Michael wasn't sure he liked any of those options.

"I said we'd managed to get you a few choices, I didn't say they were all good ones," she paused before continuing in a softer tone, "Sometimes we don't have good choices. Mine weren't."

Michael felt like a jerk. "I shouldn't yell at you, I guess it isn't your fault. This whole thing just sucks."

"Sometimes yeah, it just sucks. Time's bendy here, think about things as much as you want. Once you make a choice, you're stuck with it, so be sure you're really sure," she cautioned.

While Michael had absolutely no intention of waking up as a dead vampire, he figured he should really consider the other ideas carefully. Especially since none of them sounded like the sort of thing he could change his mind about. Final facing God judgment scared him. Being a vampire of any sort, even without turning to ashes in the sun, scared him; especially since he'd barely resisted the temptation so far. Waking up horribly injured didn't sound good either.

Three bad options and one that was unacceptable.

End part 1.

Michael didn't know how long he thought about the options the dead woman had mentioned. He didn't like the fact that he'd compared his situation to a comic book character in the middle of a story arc. And he really didn't like the way she'd mentioned these other Powers tugging people along the path they wanted. Like rats in a maze…

When lab rats didn't go on the right path, how many scientists just tried again? "If I wake up still all human, what's to stop them from trying again? Trying some other way to make me their obediently pushed along vampire or almost vampire?"

"Not much. Mostly the need to make it look like someone else's choices and actions caused it instead of their meddling."

"So I could end up back in the same situation, almost killed or mortally wounded because of a vampire, but without these rebellious Powers for Good keeping the Meddlers distracted enough to give me some options?" Michael hoped he was wrong.

"Unfortunately," she agreed.

"Let's not risk that one then. And no dead vampire me either." Michael tried to sound as firm and determined as he could.

"Which means either dead-dead and facing judgment or not quite a vampire and fighting temptation," the woman murmured.

"Neither of which sounds particularly encouraging," Michael wanted to sigh. He didn't even know if he could sigh here, in this between place that might not really exist.

"Much as I'd like it to be otherwise…" the woman's voice trailed away. "We're trying to change things. I have high hopes that we will change them. But those changes won't be fast enough to affect your choice now."

"Wait… you said Willow and Anya did some magic spells to keep me from turning into an evil vampire?" Michael wanted to ask a little more. This was a big decision, and he wanted to be informed. "Explain that a little more, please?"

"Most vampires, when they're turned, their souls go on. Max and David… their souls were long gone on to judgment before you met them. With the soul goes the conscience, the sense of right and wrong and the difference being important. A soulless vampire will still have an idea about right and wrong, they just won't care beyond how it affects them. It isn't a perfect thing, because plenty of people with souls still don't worry too much about right and wrong. But they wanted to make sure that your soul would stay with your body as long as your body was intact, and figured this would help keep you from turning into an evil vampire. Since you said you wanted to be c-cremated if you died…"

"Cremation means no more intact body," Michael finished.

"Their spells also mean that if you wake up a vampire, you'll still have your soul and your ideas of right and wrong. If you chose to be a living not fully changed vampire, you won't be as strong, but you won't catch fire from the sunlight."

"Would I get older? Could I wind up changed the rest of the way?" Michael wasn't sure if he'd like her answer. He wasn't even sure he'd like any answer.

"You'd age but much slower. If I'm reading Willow and Anya's magic right, you can't be turned unless it's right now, you'd just end up dead-dead. I'm almost positive about that…" the woman paused. "Willow's much stronger at the magic than she thinks, and Anya's been doing magic for a very, very long time."

"If I wake up a living vampire," Michael paused, attempting to shudder at the idea. "If I go that route, is there any way to lessen or reverse the changes later? To make myself human again?"

"I've been told there are ways. I don't know what they are, I don't know how accessible those ways are, or what they entail, but it is at least possible."

Michael considered his two options. Become a living vampire with a slim chance of fixing that and trying to stop the monsters out there; or dead and facing eternal judgment. Bad option and really intimidating option.

He had no idea how long he considered the two choices. Thought about his early childhood, and the occasional trips to church here and there. Thought about the monsters he'd seen in Sunnydale. Thought about channel surfing and seeing shows on Sunday mornings. Remembered Max and David and their hold over Santa Carla. Thought about how Xander and Anya and Willow and Oz had been willing to help him.

In the end, Michael decided that he wasn't willing to bet eternity on being good enough to face God. He didn't like the idea of being any sort of vampire, but… Everything any religion said about the afterlife was that those who weren't worthy had an eternity of torment, or just stopped being. Or maybe got reincarnated, according to a few of them.

"I'm more scared of facing eternal judgment and being found unworthy than dealing with being a little vampy around the edges," Michael admitted.

"And thinking more won't change what you do and don't fear," the woman's voice was soft.

"Not really. So how does this work?" Michael asked.

"Now… you just wake up."

End part 2.

Michael gasped. He could feel his body again, and everything seemed to one large ache, punctuated by a very sharp pain though his chest and a smaller sharp pain at his throat. He had a memory of stabbing David, of feeling the bite of the wood in his own chest and David's fangs in his neck. His mouth felt very dry, and there was a tube going down his throat. The lights felt painfully bright, and there were so many strange smells…

A woman in medical scrubs came into the room, her hands raised. "Please calm down, please stop flailing about…"

Michael settled a little, partly from her words and partly because his movements were making his chest hurt more. He tried to ask what was going on, why there was this tube in his throat, but the tube garbled his words.

"Please try to be calm. I'm not sure how much you remember about what happened when you were brought in," she paused, and then shook her head. "I'm going to assume you don't remember anything. Your friends called an ambulance, and you were brought to the hospital last week. Some sort of wild animal attacked you, and it bit right at the base of your neck where it meets the shoulder. We've had to give you a series of shots just in case the animal was rabid, but you probably won't notice any residual tenderness from that considering the wound to your chest. You're on a ventilator right now to assist with your breathing. One of your lungs tried to collapse after your injury. There's also an intravenous tube in your arm, this is helping keep you hydrated, and you were suffering from blood loss from all your injuries."

Michael blinked at her. He had broken memories of the fight with David, though no idea how he'd wound up at a hospital. It did make sense with the bite and getting stabbed… his lung had tried to collapse? Ouch… well, he knew it was painful. He'd also known about the blood loss. Hospitalization made a lot of sense.

Why had he expected to just wake up and be fine after his talk with the dead woman?

He didn't know how long he'd be in the hospital. Hopefully not long enough to need to worry about craving blood or getting extra growly and showing fangs.

But one thing was certain – he wasn't going to go back to live in Sunnydale. Buffy had ended things with him, and he couldn't entirely blame her for that, even if he hadn't liked it. Giles hadn't found an answer. Returning would just risk getting tangled up with Buffy and bad memories and might give those meddling Powers just what they'd wanted. He had no intention of playing to their tune. He didn't want to be a puppet on strings of hope and despair, and Buffy deserved better than getting yanked around and eventually broken by another boyfriend gone fanged and crazy.

Xander could get his stuff back. He could write… maybe email and call would be better. He didn't know where he would go, if not back to Sunnydale. Maybe he should try to figure that out while he was still in the hospital. Have a plan before he left.

A better one than his last plan.

And it might be good to stop assuming anyone would find him a solution. Hoping for an answer seemed to be how the Meddlers wanted to manipulate him. That sounded like if there was an answer, it wouldn't be easy to find. Might not even exist now.

So, no Buffy. No Sunnydale. No easy solution to his problem.

But at least the dead woman was convinced Willow and Anya had made it so he couldn't become a dead vampire. That was something. Not much, but something. He'd just have to help elsewhere.

End part 3.

End Lost Boy 10: Lost Hopes.


End file.
